Hot Head
by clairesredpen
Summary: A little bit of 'Jisbon', peeking inside Lisbon's head on a particularly hot day in the CBI office. My first fanfic piece, hopefully someone reads it!


**Hot Head**

"How can you drink tea in this heat?!" Lisbon quizzed Jane as they walked back from the office kitchen. Sacramento summers were sticky at the best of times, but the air con on their floor in CBI had been bust for several days and there were only so many desk fans to go round.

"You'd be surprised how refreshing it is, Teresa, you should try it" quipped Jane, a faint smile on his lips, as he carried the small turquoise cup and saucer back to his spot on the battered leather couch in the bullpen.

"Yeah thanks, but i'll stick to my water", she retorted, waving her glass in his direction.

Lisbon turned into her office, unable to ignore the pile of paperwork stacked precariously on her desk. Can't put this off forever, she sighed, picking up the top file and slumping back into her chair.

She glanced up and noticed Jane through the window of her office, as he sat dipping the smokey-smelling tea bag into his cup. It was oddly comforting watching the rhythm of him lifting it up and down, up and down, into the cup, something she'd seen him do a thousand times over the past ten years. Jeez, had it really been that long? She thought back to the day he walked dishevelled and broken into the CBI and into her life. He was an annoyance to her that day, and so many other days since, she mused. But the wistful smile on her face and warm feeling deep in her stomach revealed her true feelings for him, feelings she had yet to acknowledge to herself let alone to him.

She watched as Jane placed his tea down for a moment while he took off his suit jacket. So he's not infallible to this heat after all, she smiled smugly. Rolling up his shirt sleeves, Jane sat back down, crossing his legs, and picked up his teacup.

Lisbon found herself enjoying a lingering moment of unexpected pleasure at the now-jacketless Jane, as she could now make out the rounded shape of his shoulders and upper arms under his shirt. Arms that looked strong, secure... she could think of worse things than being held within them. Her gaze shifted up to the opening of Jane's shirt collar. The top two buttons were never done up, but when he'd taken his jacket off, the third button had also popped open, revealing a tantalising glimpse at the tanned skin beneath. Her mind wandered, imagining unbuttoning a few more buttons, slipping her hands under his shirt against his chest...

"Hey, can someone bring me another desk fan in here. Now!" Lisbon called out to whoever would listen, tearing herself back to reality.

She tied her hair back into a ponytail, fanning her sweaty neck with one of the casefiles from her desk. When that didn't seem to cool her down, she pressed the cold glass of water against her forehead.

She looked distractedly at the case file open in front of her. Another case in which a rich billionaire is killed by his greedy wife/business partner/mistress, delete as appropriate. Do these people not realise how lucky their lives already are without having to kill for something 'better'? She wondered if she'd finally become too cynical for this job... but then who was she kidding, she loved it! And although she'd never admit it to Jane or anyone else, she loved it even more when he cooked up one of his completely irresponsible, borderline illegal schemes which more often than not humiliated the killer in the process of catching them.

Jane, he'd infiltrated her thoughts again, and again her eyes drifted over to him. He was talking to Van Pelt, and although Lisbon couldn't make out what they were saying, judging by the way Jane's eyes glinted and those just-visible creases appeared at the side of his mouth when he smiled that smile, he was playfully mocking her about something. Lisbon rolled her eyes, silently rooting for Van Pelt not to be sucked in by his teasing.

All concern for their current case firmly forgotten, Lisbon continued to scrutinize Jane from the relative safety of her office. He was still drinking his tea, something she'd seen him do so many times, but now for the first time she noticed how the hot liquid left a shine on his lower lip. Her gaze lingered there, on those lips, certain they would be soft to touch, to kiss. Her breath caught slightly as this imaginary kiss between them continued to play out in her head, picturing his hands on her waist pulling her closer to him, her own hands gripping the loose curls at the nape of his neck (god, how she would love to run her hands through that hair)...

"Hey boss, here's that fan you asked for." RIgsby stood beside her desk, fan in hand. " You look like you need this more than me, anyways", he said, studying her flushed face. Lisbon felt her face burn even fiercer at the real reason she felt so uncomfortably hot.

"Just put it down on the desk, Rigsby", Lisbon replied, quickly shifting her gaze to something, anything, other than Jane.

As Rigsby left her office, the rational side of her subconscious finally won through, slapping her metaphorically across her face, bringing her screaming back to reality.

'Woah, what am i thinking?', she scolded herself, 'this is totally inappropriate. Get a grip, Teresa. It's just the heat, messing up your head.'

She let out a slow, resigned sigh, grabbed the case file on her desk, and headed into the bullpen, relaying orders to her team as she went.


End file.
